Monday, October 21, 2013

"What feeling bad is for" The country song version.

Do you ever feel like your life , or
day, or week would make one kick @$$ country song?
Seriously, all
this crap about broken hearts, keying cars, and being broke and these
people don't even parent special needs kids?
I guess we can all
chock it up to the grand “human experience”?

In the last couple of weeks, we have had a
house flood (bathtub left on by a sick kid), food poisoning (hence
the sick kid), car trouble ( one child purposely leaving an interior
light on in the car consistently and frying the battery), oven
fire,financial struggles.
Our pets head are falling off....
Well, not
really , but our pug Penelope is very fortunate to be alive after her
electric fence collars battery fell out, and she went chasing cars,
and caught one, literally, with.her.face.

If that isn't fodder for one sad
country song, I don't know what is.

Yesterday was another
really rough go at church. As if finding 20 matching shoes isn't
reason enough to not want to go, a struggling child sabotaging the
morning and not being regulated enough to go to her own Sunday School
class is just icing on a very large poo-cake.

Yesterday while
seven other siblings were happily dropped off to class, one child
didn't want to keep their clothes on, or walk, if breathing in and
out had been optional, they wouldn't have done that either.

As
they tried to claw and bite and we sat enjoying the fall breeze on
the church stairs, beautiful echo's of “I hate you”, “ You are
the worst Mom ever”, “My birth mom shouldn't have died, YOU SHOULD
BE DEAD” carried whimsically on the fall wind, like the multi colored
leaves floating by.
It's called frigin' imagery people.

Once calmed, we tried sitting in the
foyer, hands being held.
Each time an attempt was made to causally
pinch, or scratch me, I would kindly, but firmly say, “No, you may
not hurt me.” This was said in front of other people in the Foyer.
Consistently repeated, until the secrecy of their hurtful, sneaky
behavior was no longer a secret, or something they wanted to continue
to do.

Later that evening, there was a meltdown, a
conglomerated interpretative dance and wailing of all things “feeling
bad” related.

Once the demon was exercised, we had an
opportunity to process some big feelings.
One of which was
“Feeling bad, and so sorry for hurting mom, and fighting, and
stealing the youngest's food and being mean.” Also the feeling of
embarrassment was vocalized when Mom said, “You may not hurt me',
telling there bad behavior secret.

I was gentle and explained,
keeping hurting secrets, where one person is allowed to hurt another,
is not safe for anyone, and in our home hurting secrets will not be
kept. Not out of shame, out of safety.

A loud wail erupted as
a volcano of SHAME came tumbling through her lips.
“I
feel bad that I hurt you, I feel bad that I was so mean today. I am a
really bad, no good, rotten awful ugly kid that no one should like, I
hate me, I wish I had never been born. You shouldn't love me, or be
nice to me, because I ruin everything.”

And that is the
shame folks, the everlasting seepage of how no matter what she feels
unworthy, incapable of good, and destined to live up to her
definition of herself.

It hurts my heart each time, to witness
this much self hate in such a small fragile person.
Tiny humans
hold more pain that we can understand possible.

And so we
broke down “Feeling Bad” tore “feeling bads” face off and
ripped it into little digestible shreds.

One of the myths our
kids tell themselves is “I do bad things, I feel bad, because I AM
UNDENIABLY TO THE CORE BAD.”
Man to feel that way about yourself
all of the time, and anytime you mess up, trip up as humans do, it is a
manifestation of what a screw up you already believe yourself to
be. Gez that has to suck.

I said to her, “Baby girl, I think
I need to help you understand “Feeling Bad”, will you let me help
you?”
She looked at me like I was retarded, she is sort of
right, she does have a PHD on the subject.
However, she shook her
head “yes”.

Sweetness, “Feeling Bad” is not wrong.
“Feeling bad is a safety boundary built into our brains and
bodies.”

Sniff,”It is?”

“Yes, just like if Mom
warned you to be careful around a hot oven burner, and you still
touched it and burned your hand. Would that make you a BAD KID or a
HURT KID?”

“Both, bad, because I didn't listen and hurt,
cuz burns hurt.”

'Sweetie, just because you didn't listen
and got hurt, doesn't make you bad, it wouldn't be a great choice,
because the consequence would be a hurt hand. But the next time the
burner was on would you touch it?”

“No, cuz I got
hurt.”

“Exactly, and that is how “Feeling Bad” is
supposed to work in our brains. Feeling Bad, because we made some
rough behavior choices is good, it is really telling your brain “EW
this FEELS BAD, LETS NOT DO THIS AGAIN.”
That's it, that's what
it is built for.
Not, “Because I touched the burner and didn't
listen to my Mom, I am a really bad, no good, rotten awful ugly kid
that no one should like." It is just there to help you not want to repeat the behavior over again.

She
looked at me like I had three heads.
“Wait a minute, feeling
bad, is good, like a Stop sign in my brain?................. but not when I let it make me feel bad about me, that's
not what that feeling is for?”

“EXACTLY!
The burner
was hot, and you should remember not to touch it again, because it
hurt, that is ALL “I feel bad” is supposed to do to you. Really
“I feel bad” is built into your brain to protect you, not beat
you up on the inside. That beating up on the inside is called shame,
and shame is a sick, dirty, mean cousin of 'Feeling Bad”. (Now if
that isn't a song lyric)
Honey, big people that haven't had as
much hard in their lives as you have, confuse what “Feeling Bad”is
supposed to do, and invite shame in to beat them up all of the time.
We are pretty lucky to know the difference, don't you think?”

A
light clicked on, so tonight, when I am “feeling bad” about
hurting you at church and throwing a fit, really it is my brain
telling me, I don't want to do that again, not that I am a terrible
kid?”

“Yes sweetheart, that is exactly what your brain was
trying to tell you with the “I feel bad”.

A smile crept
out on her face.

I think there were little fireworks going off
in her brain, maybe the 'Annie' soundtrack background music of “The
sun will come out tomorrow.”

"Honey this new tool isn't easy, you know the song 'Stop in the name of Love' ?With the hand motions and everything that we sing?"

Giggle,"Yes".

"Well, sometimes you are going to feel bad for a choice, it happens to everyone, but now you know, you can ask that "feeling bad" thought what it is trying to protect you from doing again, and NOT let his cousin Shame, the one that tells you the mean lies about yourself in. And if that naughty cousin tries to show up and tell you mean lies about what kind of bad kid you are...SING THAT SONG, and remember what "feeling bad's" job really is, O.K.? "

"O.K. Mom, and Mom? I think I really needed to know this a long time ago, but I am glad you told me now."

"Me too sweetie, me too."

"STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE, BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART, THINK IT ALL OVER,
THINK IT ALL OVER."

Note: Singing this song, with a country twang while jumping on the trampoline with tutu's, makes all the difference.

"A loud wail erupted as a volcano of SHAME came tumbling through her lips.“I feel bad that I hurt you, I feel bad that I was so mean today. I am a really bad, no good, rotten awful ugly kid that no one should like, I hate me, I wish I had never been born. You shouldn't love me, or be nice to me, because I ruin everything.”

And that is the shame folks, the everlasting seepage of how no matter what she feels unworthy, incapable of good, and destined to live up to her definition of herself."

You just gave me another tool to add to my little guy's toolbox. I am also printing this off for his teacher.

You need to compile all your posts and write a book. I am not kidding. Please, please consider it.

A version of this that works in the moment - when someone is starting that real ugly mean stuff, I rhetorically ask how they are feeling "right now" and tell them that it looks like their body is talking to them. If things feel "good", then maybe keep going. If it's "not good", it's your body telling you to stop. Forget about me and my rules, listen to your body.

Me, the crazy one they call Mama...

SO here's the thing....

I stink at blogging, no really I do...by the way I am dyslexic and can NOT spell worth a darn, but I write anyway.

I have the best of intentions...but life happens.

I am parenting NINE amazing kiddo's.One that is no longer safe enough to be in my home...and I mourn that, every day.This blog is about being flawed but doing the best you can do. It is about parenting some Fabulous kiddo's with some heartbreaking problems. We are just a family.A family living, laughing, crying and shaking it up as much as we can to ward off the effects of severe trauma, anxiety, depression, psychotic tendencies, suicidal ideation, addictions, bulimia, anorexia, ADHD, Sensory Processing Disorder,Hording, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, they and we are surviving by the skin of their teeth, everyday, but we are NOT giving up.This blog is about surviving daily life with a child with type one diabetes... I am just a Mom, dedicated to MY children, dedicated to being a Forever Family, and giving some of these kids whom have never had a safe anything, a HOME: a soft place to fall.

Who this is Really for!

Sooo if you have found us and just started reading...
I am protecting my kids names out of respect. Lets be honest, if I am going to talk about their behaviors...they don't need their names out there...because it is the BEHAVIORS that are hard, it is the anger and destruction of the trauma that they experienced that needs to be named, my children are deep down good, with a whole lot of broken/nasty/ugly tossed over to disguise what is so wonderful about them.
I have six with trauma disorders. That is what is SO gosh darn HARD... they see it and are triggered some-days, by just looking into each others eyes.
MY AMAZING and sometimes ANGRY ELVES:
We have 2 bio kiddo's:

and 5, COUNT THEM F.I.V.E. Haitian Sensations .....

Our kiddo's came home 20 days after the Haitian Earthquake. Hubbie and I traveled to Haiti 10 days afterward. It has deeply changed, traumatized and effected our family in soooo many ways. So on top of some MAJOR Attachment issues, we are also all coping with PTSD, ODD, RAD, SPD and Borderline Personality Disorder....this is OUR Season of Healing.